


Bend the Knee, Lose All

by Tigereye77



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mild Language, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-29
Updated: 2017-07-29
Packaged: 2018-12-08 15:50:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11649786
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tigereye77/pseuds/Tigereye77
Summary: When Jon Snow bends the knee to Daenerys Targaryen, he finds the consequences to be devastating.





	Bend the Knee, Lose All

**Author's Note:**

> This story is in response to some alleged ‘spoilers’. I haven’t read them but have gotten the gist from several people. A story was asked and this is my interpretation of things. I had quite a good time writing this. It is long, there are major character deaths and if you’re a Daenerys fan, it might be best if you avoided this story.

They are a sorry sight, bedraggled and wounded, their horses emaciated and near dying as they approach the gates of Winterfell. It had been a hard journey back from Kings Landing where their ill-conceived idea of treating with the Mad Queen, Cersei, resulted in devastating losses they could never had imagined. Daenerys dragons, all gone. Her mighty Dorothki and Unsullied troops, smashed. They had barely escaped with their own lives, their pitiful party of the Mother of Dead Dragons, Varys, Tyrion and Jon. All others had been lost as they realized that a cunning and mad queen willing to risk everything was more than match for three dragons and two armies. Especially if they were stupid and naïve enough to believe Cersei would be willing to listen to their talk of alliances and a greater threat. They only made out alive with the timely arrival and assistance of Brienne and Podrick, who were sent by Sansa to protect Jon.

He should have listened to Sansa. She had tried to warn him to not trust Cersei and yet again, he ignored his cousin’s sage advice and it was only the intervention of Sansa’s sworn sword and her squire that he lived.

Jon had left Winterfell many moons ago to bring back dragon glass and powerful allies. While he was able to get a shipment of dragon glass sent to Sansa, all he had to show for his trip south was a broken would-be queen, a dwarf, a eunuch and a wounded shoulder.

“Who goes there?” a voice bellowed out.

“Jon Snow, your King,” he called out firmly. He saw a head pop out to regard the party below. While he could not see the man’s expression, the sneer and derision in his voice could not be mistaken.

“Oh, it’s the Targaryen scum with his foreign whore.”

He heard Daenerys sharp intake of breath. Jon flushed angrily. “Opened the gate! As your king, I order you to open the gate!”

“You’re no king of mine, Targaryen!” spat out the guard.

“Then you will open it for me!” Brienne rode forward from her position in the back where she and Podrick had protected their group. 

Another head popped out. “Tis Lady Brienne. Her Grace will want to see her.”

“’Her grace?’” Dany’s head turned sharply towards Jon. 

Jon shrugged, realizing that as soon as the Northern Lords heard he was really Rhaegar and Lyanna’s child they likely crowned Sansa. He did not mind, he welcomed it. The mistakes he has made in the last few moons showed he had been a poor choice.

Slowly the gates opened and Jon and his party rode silently in. They were greeted with hostile stares and he realized the courtyard seemed extremely crowded with more troops and small folk gathered than he had seen before. An old woman carrying a basket spat at the feet of Jon’s horse and he tried not to react. A pile of dung was thrown at them and it splattered on Dany’s cloak and some hit Tyrion on his leg.  
The whispers began. 

“He gave away the North.”

“Wasn’t his to give away, Targaryen bastard.”

“That’s his foreign whore, who is his aunt too. Sick and evil is what them Targaryen’s are.”

“A Lannister! He should be hung!”

Jon stared straight ahead but he could see from the corner of his eye Daenerys glaring at everyone, her back stiff and her neck held high. _Your foolish pride will get us killed, Aunt,_ Jon thought wearily.

Aside from the whispers, the spitting and one lobbed pile of dung, no one bothered them. Brienne’s presence assured them of their safety. They dismounted and moved forward, but it was not Sansa who greeted them, but a round solemn face that Jon loved so much.

“Sam!” he cried out as he hurried forward to embrace his old friend.

However, before he could do so, Sam held out a hand to stop him. Sam’s eyes went to Dany who was several steps behind Jon and settled on her. She smiled prettily at Jon’s friend, but Sam’s eyes remained hard and cold, a look Jon had never seen before.

“Are you the one? Are you Daenerys Targaryen?” Sam asked in a sharp voice that startled Jon.

“Yes,” Dany replied, slightly taken aback. “I am Queen of-“

“Burning Men!” Sam snapped. “That is all you are!” He turned furious eyes on Jon, so heated and angry they were that the former King of the North took a step back. “She burned my father and brother alive! Just like she did with your relatives yet you stand with her! Fuck her! Turn your back on your family for her!”

“Sam-,” Jon began, his heart breaking. He reached out to his friend who stepped back. 

“No!” Sam said sharply. “There is nothing to say. You made your bed, now you must lie in it.” He looks over Daenerys dismissively. “I hope you think it was worth it.” He gathers himself. “The Queen is in a meeting with her war council. She has asked that you be shown rooms, provided baths and food. She suggests you rest and she will speak with you later. As you can see, we have limited room here in Winterfell as the Queen has tried to shelter as many refugees as possible. Only two rooms are available so you’ll have to share.” He looked stonily at the little party. “I’m sure you already have a plan worked out. Follow me.”  
They had no choice but to trail after Sam and the prospect of a warm bath, bed and food sounded too good to resist. Sam led them to the guest quarters far from the family’s wing and Jon felt a pang at that, but it was no less than he deserved. Brienne and Podrick had peeled off to their own rooms, but Jon noticed they had been joined by four guards. Sam showed them to two small rooms. “I’m sure you’ll figure out you own sleeping arrangements.” He turned to go, but Tyrion stopped him.

“Are we to be constantly guarded?”

Sam paused and turned around. “While they are here to ensure none of you cause issues, be glad that they are as they are also charged with your protection.”

“Protection?” Jon queried.

Sam stared stonily at him. “None of you are popular here in the North. None. I can think of a dozen people who would happily slit each of your throats, but the Queen will not permit it. At this point, your cousin is the only one standing between you and the fury of your former bannermen.” Sam turned to go again, but Jon stopped him.

“Sam, please,” Jon begged. “Please, let us talk.”

“There’s nothing to say, Jon,” Sam snapped. He took a deep, steadying breath. “My father was not a nice man. He was fairly terrible, but he was my father. And I did care for Dickon.” He looked over at Dany who was watching them closely and his face hardened. “But she burned them alive. Alive, Jon! They didn’t deserve that and yet you still sided with her!” Sam looked almost pityingly at Jon who could only stare at his friend with shattered eyes. “You were a good man once, Jon Snow. Kind and honorable. Decent.” Sam shook his head. “But I can’t see you like that anymore. Not now.” He turned and strode away.

*/*/*/*/*

They gave Dany one room while the three men slept in the other one. She looked pointedly at Jon who ignored her. After their tryst on the boat, there had not been much opportunity to couple. Just twice in their travels back to Winterfell. Each time Jon, felt dirtier knowing he was laying with his aunt, but in those bleak times on the road, he was desperate to hold onto anything. He wondered how word of his relationship with Daenerys had reached Winterfell. Jon had asked his question out loud in a soft murmur, but the other two men heard him and Tyrion replied it had been he who had written to Sansa.

“I was outside her chamber door,” the Imp told him. “I heard the two of you. She’s quite verbose.”

“And you felt the need to write to Sansa about it?” Jon inquired sharply.

“I mentioned that it seemed a great alliance was forming and I suggested perhaps we should make our marriage more lasting,” Tyrion shrugged.

Jon rounded on him and grabbed Tyrion by the shirt. “You will get it out of your head that you have any type of claim on Sansa!” Jon growled.

The little man’s eyes narrowed and he laughed bitterly. “What is this Jon Snow, trying to keep all of the beautiful women to yourself?”

Jon released Tyrion and stepped back, trying to control his anger. “There is nothing between me and Daenerys. Not anymore. And I will offer my sword in service to my cousin.”

“Hmm, good luck convincing our Mother of Dead Dragons you’re walking away. Men don’t do that with her. She does the discarding and walking away. Cousin, how easily that label falls from your lips now. And so much more convenient for you. Cousins frequently marry each other.”

Jon fisted his hands and spun around to stalk over to one of the windows, ignoring Tyrion. He heard Varys move over to the Imp and speak to him in low tones, but Jon was not interested in what they were scheming. What he had said earlier was true. All Jon wanted to do was swear himself to Sansa’s service and protect the North. Maybe then, he could find some of that honor he had lost in the last few moons. It was the best he could hope for because the other dream, the one he had kept buried in the deepest part of his heart that had copper hair and eyes as blue as a summer sky would never be his. Not after all this.

*/*/*/*/*

They were finally taken for an audience with Sansa. They approached her in the Great Hall where she was flanked by Lord Glover and Yohn Royce. Brienne and Podrick stood sentinel behind Sansa’s chair and to Jon’s surprise, Edmure Tully and a young boy sat on the right side of the room. 

Sansa wore no crown, but needed none as her copper hair shined brilliantly. She wore a plain grey gown with the double dire wolves broach nestled at her neck.

“Kneel Targaryen Scum!” one of the guards that had escorted them cried out.

They were forced onto their knees and he saw Sansa frown at the guards.

“There is no need for that,” she reprimanded them. She gestured for Jon and the others to rise.

“They were not showing respect for the Queen of the Three Realms,” Lord Glover rumbled out.

“Three?” Dany cried out.

“The Vale and the Riverlands have sworn themselves to Queen Sansa,” Lord Royce replied as he regarded them evenly. “We have no use for Mad Queens, Targaryen or Lannisters.”

“I should be the queen! Your king bent the knee to me!” Dany cried out before a sharp elbow from Varys silenced her.

“A false king who had no right to the crown,” Glover snapped as he looked at Jon with mild distaste. “Queen Sansa has convinced us that you knew naught about your parents, bastard, otherwise we would have thought you conspired with this-,” he sniffed distastefully in Dany’s direction, “Targaryen to steal the North.”

“I told you, I didn’t want the crown,” Jon began.

“Aye, we were to blame partially, and we believe the Queen when she declared your intentions honorable, if not wise.”

“Is that the Dragon Queen?” the young boy suddenly asked as he stood up.

Edmure Tully tried to shush him. “Quiet Robin, yes, it’s her but there are no more dragons.”

“Oh,” Robin replied as he sank back into his seat. “Then there’s nothing interesting about her.”

Jon glanced at Sansa, whose face to many, remained impassive, an icy mask of bland neutrality, but Jon detected the slightest softening in her eyes.

“Why have you all come here?” Sansa finally asked, her eyes on him.

“I come to ask to do what I have always wanted to do, which is to serve and protect the North,” Jon replied. He heard someone let out a snort over his words, but he ignored it. “I’ve come to pledge my sword to you, Your Majesty.”

“And these others?” Sansa asked, turning her attention to Dany, Tyrion and Varys. “What do you seek?”

“I too come to serve you, your Grace,” Varys replied.

Sansa quirked her lips. “And I would be your fourth? Fifth master, Varys? You go through them so swiftly. It makes me question your loyalty.” Before he could respond, Sansa turned to Tyrion. “And you, Lord Lannister.”

“I simply seek shelter,” the little man replied blithely. “I’m imposing upon our past relationship and asking you for old times sake to help out a fellow creature in distress. We were married before.”

A guard poked Tyrion in the back. “Mind how you speak to the Queen, Lannister!” Glover growled.

Sansa turned her eyes towards Daenerys. “And you, Daenerys Targaryen, what do you seek from this court.”

The two women regarded each other silently for a few moments, Sansa with her cool calmness, and Daenerys fairly vibrating with hot anger. “Queen of the Three Realms?” hissed the petite woman. “I should be the one called queen! It is my birthright-“

The guard who had poked Tyrion suddenly came up to Dany and cuffed her roughly against her head sending her stumbling slightly forward. “You will respect the Queen!”

“Bael!” Sansa said sharply. “I appreciate your wish to protect me from everything, including a disrespectful guest, but do not strike her.” She watched silently as Jon helped steady Dany and inquired if she was okay. “Now, as you can see, what you think you are entitled to has little currency here. Right now we are fighting a war with the undead, a war we had hoped you would be our allies in. However, at this time, you have nothing to offer us but yourself. You have no armies. You have no dragons. We appreciate the first shipment of dragon glass, but since Cersei reclaimed Dragonstone, that is all we received. Forgive me my lady, unless you are an experienced fighter or a trained maester, I do not see what you have to offer the North but another mouth to feed. How will you earn your keep?”

Dany looked at Sansa in shock and began to sputter. “I am a Queen! I am royalty!”

“You are another person who is taking up resources of which we have very little. I need people who can contribute in the fight against the Night King. I do not need a woman who only wishes to rule, but has shown very little capacity for it, nor do I need a Master of Whispers or a drunkard.” Her eyes fell upon Jon again who gazed at her silently. “I need fighters. I need maesters and healers. I need workers. Everyone in the North is contributing in some way in our fight, even the smallest of children.” She tore her eyes from Jon and looked at the other three. “If you are willing to do so, I will offer you sanctuary, as much as I can, because at this point, with the Others marching towards us, I cannot guarantee anyone’s safety.”

In the end, they agreed and while Varys and Tyrion would have preferred a role among Sansa’s advisors, they knew it would never happen. They are assigned to Sam who would find them something to do. The maester appeared, still not meeting Jon’s eyes and took the other two men away with him, two guards trailing after them.

“Daenerys Targaryen, I will assign you to help in the infirmary.” A broad, solid looking woman entered the room from a side door. “This is Thayla and she will show you what needs to be done.” Dany looks mutinously at being forced to work, but she remains silent. She gives Jon a slightly worried look which he returns, but she follows the other woman out, a guard following her. Sansa watches their silent exchange with an impassive look on her face.

“She will be alright,” Sansa tells Jon gently. Jon looks back at her in surprise. “She won’t be harmed in any way.”

“I wasn’t worried about that,” Jon replied honestly. He didn’t think Dany truly had anything to fear, physically, from the Northerners, at least not here within Sansa’s castle. “I’m just not sure she’s ever really done much manual labor.”

Sansa’s lips quirked. “She’ll learn with Thayla supervising her.” She stood suddenly and walked around the table, gesturing for Jon to follow her. “Come Jon, Bran is waiting to speak with you.” She paused when she realized Jon was not following her. “Jon?”

“Bran? Bran’s alive?” Jon asked hoarsely.

Sansa frowned at him. “Jon, I wrote to you that Bran arrived at Winterfell not long after you left and Arya right after him. Did you not get my letters?”

“Arya?” Jon repeated stupidly. “Letters?”

“Jon!” Sansa peered closely into his face. “I wrote to Dragonstone about them coming home, asking you to come back to see them.”

Jon closed his eyes. “The letters must have been lost,” he murmured, not wanting to believe the alternative.

“Or intercepted,” Sansa replied crisply, suspicion darkening her eyes. She motioned for him to follow her and this time did not wait to see if he did. “Come, it’s time you speak with Bran. There is much to do.”

*/*/*/*/*

Bran was in the Godswoods beneath the Heart Tree, Meera and two other guards by his side. When Jon spotted him, he let out a cry and rushed forward to embrace his brother, but the guards stopped him.

“Let him through,” Bran commanded and the guards stepped aside to allow Jon to drop to his knees and pull his brother into a fierce hug. “Hello, Jon.”

“Bran!” Jon choked out a sob as he squeezed Bran’s slight form tightly. “Brother!”

“Well, really cousin,” Bran said mildly and Jon dropped his arms and pulled back to look at the boy with wounded eyes. Bran smiled slightly. “Despite all that has happened, and all that we know, I do think of you as my brother.”

At his words, Jon smiled slightly. “Where have you been? Tell me all that has happened to you.”

Bran shook his head. “Later, we have more important things to speak about.” He looked up at Sansa. “I can feel them coming closer.”

Sansa took a step forward. “How close?”

“At the rate they’re moving, they’ll be on Winterfell’s doorstep in two moons.”

“We don’t have much time then. We’ll have to mobilize much more quickly than we had planned,” Sansa replied grimly.

“Send me to the front,” Jon begged. “I can fight there.”

Sansa stared at him for a moment and then shook her head. “You’d be useless up there. Brienne told me about your shoulder wound and I can see you favoring it even now. No, you’ll still need some time to recover before you’re ready to fight. In the meantime, you can help train the fighters. I’ll have Brienne arrange it. I must go now to inform the Lords that we will have to move more quickly.” She inclined her head and took her leave.

Jon watched her go with a mixture of pride and awe until Bran’s voice made him turn around.

“She’s a very good queen,” Bran said in a light voice. “And with Brienne, Glover and Royce’s tutoring, become quite good at understanding and making military decisions.” He leaned back against the heart tree. “But she was quite disappointed to hear about your actions in the South, Jon. Bending the knee to Daenerys Targaryen?”

Jon dropped his head in shame. “I thought I was doing right for the North. We needed her armies and dragons.”

“And lusting after her and desiring her as your queen had nothing to do with it?”

Jon’s eyes snapped up. “Tyrion told you all that?”

“Did he lie?”

Jon looked away, unable to meet Bran’s steady eyes. “No. Maybe it’s the cursed Targaryen blood within me, but I was seized by some type of madness. And then when Brienne arrived and told me about my father…I felt ill over what I had done.”

“Yet you continued to couple with her.” It wasn’t a question, nor was it judgment.

Jon snorted. “By then, what did anything matter? She had lost all of her troops, her dragons. We were running for our lives. I failed at everything I tried to do and could only think of coming home and dying trying to protect what I loved most. But sometimes the nights got so cold and my despair so dark, and she was a warm body to fuck and she thought the same of me.”

Bran simply shook his head. “So that is why you’re here now? To simply die?”

“At least I’ll die protecting those I love and my home.”

“You know no one believes you.”

“What?!” Jon gave Bran a startled look.

“That you love the North. That you love this family, us, the Starks. You turned your back on us, Jon, for Daenerys. Many people view you as a traitor. I’m afraid you won’t find it easy here. Neither you nor your friends.”

“I’ve already seen that,” Jon said in a wounded tone, his eyes dropping.

“That is nothing!” Bran bit out so sharply Jon looked up at him in surprise. “Many wanted to strike you down as soon as you set foot in the North. You and Daenerys! That woman’s vanity and stupidity along with yours has made this coming war nigh impossible for us to win. You sold the North for nothing but what was between Daenerys legs! The only reasons you all aren’t dead is because Sansa declared no harm would come to any of you until she had a chance to talk with each of you.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Jon cried out in anguish. “If I could go back, I never would have done the things I did, but I can’t change that Bran. So all I can do is try to make up for it as best as I can. Will you help me?”

Bran gestured for one of the guards who came to wheel his chair. “I cannot help you with that, Jon. Only you will be able to decide how to prove yourself not only to the North, but to Sansa. It will not be easy.” He started to move away when Jon stopped him.

“Bran, where can I find Arya?”

Bran paused and would not look at Jon. “Arya isn’t here anymore. She’s…changed so much that being within Winterfell’s walls did not provide her with the comfort and security it once did.”

“You mean Sansa let her leave?” Jon exclaimed.

“Sansa did not have a choice. Arya wished to leave. Her place was no longer here. Sansa begged and pleaded with her, but Arya’s fate is not within the walls of Winterfell.” He turned to give Jon one more measured look. “Had you returned sooner, you would have had a chance to see her and say goodbye.” He gestured for the guard to continue and they left Jon alone in the Godswoods with the snow falling gently upon him.

*/*/*/*/*

The work was hard and Jon rarely saw Sansa. He would catch a glimpse of a flash of copper around a corner and he would hurry after her, but she would be gone before he could find her. As his wounded shoulder healed, he trained the fighters, Northern men, women and children, many of whom looked at him distrustfully but obediently followed his instructions without comment. Jon saw Sam regularly as the maester checked on the latter’s shoulder, but Sam kept the conversation focused on Jon’s injury. After the first week at Winterfell, Sansa had removed the guards who watched over them, though there were enough suspicious eyes around to report any misdeeds should any of them be foolish enough to commit them.

He had never been surrounded by so many yet felt so alone.

Varys and Tyrion settled into their roles with little complaint. Sam had them researching for ways to fight the White Walkers and while Winterfell’s library was not as extensive as the Citadel, it did carry many books on military strategies and history of Westeros. 

Daenerys found her duties less pleasant. Thayla had her cleaning bed pans.

“This is an outrage! I am Khaleessi! And I’m cleaning up shit?! Your bitch of a cousin is deliberately trying to humiliate me!”

“Do not speak of Sansa that way!” Jon yelled back at her. “The only reason you’re cleaning bedpans is because you have no other skills! They have no need of someone to sit on her ass on the throne and look pretty!”

She had glared at Jon who spun around and stalked out of her room. He didn’t know where he was going, but knew he needed to get away from Dany. They didn’t interact much with other people when they weren’t working and had only each other for company. Jon soon found that they were not as compatible as he thought, at least not when they were both left with nothing, would-be monarchs that had no kingdom or people to rule.

Jon headed for the battlements, needing some solitude and the bracing winter air, but found to his surprise that someone was already there. The woman he had been eager to speak to all these weeks was standing before him, alone for once, though he could see Brienne in the shadows at the opposite end watching him closely. Sansa’s head turned as his boots crunched the thin layer of snow beneath his feet.  
“Jon,” she greeted. She turned her head to look at Brienne and gave her sworn sword a small nod and Brienne faded back into the shadows.

“Your Majesty,” Jon inclined his head respectfully.

He saw Sansa’s lips quirk and a sad look come into her eyes. She returned her attention to the wintery landscape. “How are you faring in the training?”

Jon moved to stand beside her, staring out into the frozen land as well. It was easier to speak this way, not looking into one another’s eyes.

“Good. There are some decent fighters there.” His answer is short because he does not want to say what he really thinks. However Sansa is far more intuitive and she has studied the situation much more thoroughly than he thinks.

“It’s not enough is it? Not enough to defeat the Others and the Night King.”

“No,” Jon replies softly as his head drops in shame. He had one thing to do and that was to bring back resources that would give the North a fighting chance, dragons and dragon glass. Instead, all he brought back was a spoiled child, a dwarf and a eunuch. He glanced at Sansa who still stared out into the frozen land.

“Run,” he said to her softly. “Sansa, get Bran and head across the sea to Braavos, the Free Cities.” He stepped urgently towards her. “Go now, while there’s still time.”

She turned startled eyes towards him. “Run? Jon, I can’t run, my people need me.”

“There’s nothing you can do for them, Sansa, because I ruined things,” Jon spat out bitterly. He grabbed her by her arms. “But you can live. You and Bran! Take him, get Brienne to escort you. Save yourselves!”

She glanced down at where his hands held her arms and then back into his face. “Where was this concern for us when you lay with the Dragon Queen giving away our home?”

Jon dropped his hands. “I know I can’t go back and change things. I can’t say sorry and expect to be forgiven for something so egregious. But trust me, Sansa, I only want to protect you and Bran.”

Sansa looks out him a moment and lets out a hollow laugh. “Remember how we stood here once and you said we needed to trust each other? I did, and you gave away our home. How do you expect me to trust you, Jon? How do you expect me to believe anything you say?”

“I don’t know,” Jon replies softly. He reached up his hands to cup her face, her beautiful face that he had tried to forget and thought he could with another woman, but Jon knew that Sansa was imprinted on his very soul. “But I would do anything to keep you safe and I will work until the end of time to make you believe and trust me again. Sansa,” he murmured softly as he leaned his forehead to hers.

Their breaths mingled as the stood there in a moment far more intimate than any he had shared with Daenerys, but all too soon, Sansa pulled away and Jon immediately felt colder.

“It will not be easy, nor quick to earn back that trust, Jon,” Sansa told him as she started to turn away. “You may find it could take longer for me to trust you than the North itself.” She paused and then said in a low voice. “But I’m willing to try. Good night, Jon.” She glided towards Brienne who held open a door for her and disappeared from his sight. Whatever it took, Jon was willing to do it to have her back.

*/*/*/*/*

The bright glean in Daenerys’ eyes when she came to him should have been Jon’s warning. He had been walking towards his room when she popped out of hers and dragged Jon inside.

“Jon!” she hissed in a whisper even though they were alone and behind closed doors. “I know what we can do!”

He looked at her in confusion. “Do? What do you mean?”

“How we can get our thrones back! Your cousin isn’t as smart nor does she have as strong of a hold over her kingdom as she thinks! I’ve heard some men whispering about their doubts about her ability to lead them through this fight. I’m sure if you were to talk to some of the men they’d back you-“

Her words ended in a gasp as Jon grabbed her by her shoulders and shook her. “Shut up! Don’t say such things! I would never do that to Sansa!” He pushed her roughly back and she stumbled against a table. “If you do anything to harm Sansa, or my family, I will cut you down myself.”

Jon spun on his heel and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Daenerys coldly snubbed him the next few days and Jon found himself glad for the respite of not having to deal with her. Varys and Tyrion looked at them curiously, but asked no questions. Jon found himself preoccupied with other matters to care too much about Daenerys’ silent treatment. In addition to the training he did, Sansa was suddenly more available to him, occasionally engaging in short conversations. Jon’s heart began to hope again as he watched her eyes sometimes soften when in his presence.

After a particularly long day, Jon undressed down to his breeches and crawled into bed. Varys and Tyrion were still in the library. They often had very late nights as they became engrossed in their research. He had begun to drift to sleep when his door opened and a figure slipped silently in. Jon raised his head to see who it was and recognized Daenerys immediately.

Given their chilly relations the past few days, he was surprised then when she slipped into his bed and began to kiss him. Jon pushed her away.

“Dany? What are you doing?”

“I’m lonely, Jon,” she murmured pleadingly as she straddled his body and began to grind her wet cunt against him. “Please. I just need someone to hold me, to make me feel good again in this wretched place!”

“Dany, no,” Jon began to say as he push her off. He bit off a groan as he felt her hot, wetness through the thin layers of their clothing as she moved over him. One of her hands snaked down and slipped inside his breeches to stroke him.

“You want me to,” Dany purred. “Come on, Jon, just a good hard fuck and we’ll both feel better.”

“Stop it! I don’t want to!”

“That’s not what your big cock is telling me,” Dany laughed as she pulled him out of his breeches. “I’ll use my mouth. I know how much you love that.” She started to move down on him.

“Dany, I said stop-“

Jon’s words were cut off as the door was banged open and guards filled the room.

“Grab the traitor and his whore!” one of them yelled out.

Dany was yanked off of Jon and he was pulled from the bed. They were dragged out of the room and marched towards the Great Hall, he clad only in his breeches and Dany in a shift. When they got there, it was filled with the Northern Lords. Varys and Tyrion were already on their knees before Sansa and Lord Royce and Glover in a repeat of when they had first arrived. Jon and Dany were thrown down next to the Varys and Tyrion. Jon looked up in bewilderment towards Sansa.

Glover stood up. “Jon Snow, Daenerys Targaryen, you both are accused of conspiring to commit treason against Queen Sansa, Ruler of the Three Realms. How do you plead?”

“What?” Jon sputtered. “Sansa? What is going on?”

“Answer the question!” Glover snapped out.

“Not guilty, of course!” Dany yelled. “This is just something this frigid bitch has made up because she knows Jon loves me and not her!”

Jon snapped his head to stare at Dany and then looked back at Sansa who had remained silent and impassive so far. Glover sputtered and would have said something else, but Sansa held up her hand. Jon noticed it then that she had a letter in the other hand. Sansa rose to her feet.

“This letter was intercepted and brought to Lord Royce earlier today. It is addressed to Jorah Mormont, a loyalist of Daenerys Targaryen and it says that Daenerys has convinced Jon Snow to help her recruit men at Winterfell who will back his claim as King and over throw the reigning queen, Sansa Stark. She asks for Mormont to ride North to Winterfell to assist with this and help her rightfully reclaim her lands.”

Several people gasp and Varys, Tyrion and Jon turn to stare at Dany in disbelief. She simply returns Sansa’s icy look with a fierce one of her own. “That letter is a forgery. You have no proof. I bet you created that to just to try to get rid of me.”

“Martin,” Sansa called out.

A young guard strides forward and bows before Sansa. 

“Please tell us what you told Lord Glover earlier.”

“I notice this Targaryen has been trying to listen in on what the guards are saying so I says to me friends, let’s see just what she’s up to. We begin to talk like we’d want the bastard to rule instead of you, your grace. I can see she’s just lapping this up and sure enough, today she comes to me and offers herself up if I could find some men who thought like me and would help Jon Snow.”

“She actually offered to lie with you in exchange for betraying your queen?” Royce exclaimed.

Martin nodded. “Aye, almost hiked up her skirt and spread her legs right there, but I told her we talk later.” A look of distaste crossed his face. “Like I would bed a Targaryen,” he spat out.

An angry murmur went through the crowd and Dany’s face flushed and then paled. “Lies! Again, this is just cooked up to justify the Queen in ordering my death.”

Sansa’s eyes turned towards Jon. “Have you nothing to say, Jon Snow?”

“I have nothing to do with any plot against you, Your Grace. I only wish to serve my queen.” He paused and something in his face caused Sansa to tilt her head and ask,

“But?”

“A few days ago, Daenerys did speak to me about possibly challenging your claim on the throne, Your Grace. I thought it was simply silly talk and ignored her. I forgot about it as I thought she did too.” He glared at Dany who seemed to shrink. Varys and Tyrion groaned.

“So you knew of a plot to commit treason and remained silent?” Royce shot out.

“I didn’t think she was serious!”

“I knew nothing of this, Your Majesty,” Varys piped up. “Neither Tyrion nor I have heard of this plot before.”

Sansa nodded. “I believe you Varys. Sam has said the two of you have spent practically every waking moment in the library and no one has seen you approach the guards or talk much with Daenerys herself.” She sighed softly. 

It began with only one person calling out, but soon there were chants of “guilty” and “hang the traitors” that filled the Hall. Jon watched as both Glover and Royce leaned towards Sansa to talk to her. Sansa held up her hand for silence. She stood.

“Daenerys Targaryen, do you have anything to say in your defense?”

“I was born to rule the Seven Kingdoms, yet you force me to clean up shit and wait on those who should be serving me. It is my right to rule!”

Sansa did not look at the other woman with any hatred or malice, only weariness and pity. “Long ago, I thought it would be the most wonderful thing to be queen. A pretty life full of pretty dresses and things. But that is not a queen. A queen is not one who sits there simply to rule over people. A queen is someone who serves her people. I have seen many bad monarchs. We still have one in the South. A happenstance of birth does not mean you will be a good ruler or should rule. If you have nothing to add to your defense, than I will issue my judgment.”

“I have nothing else to say,” Dany spat out.

Sansa looked at Jon.

Jon glanced at Dany and then lifted his chin. “I am prepared to accept whatever judgment my queen has to offer.”

Sansa took a deep breath. “Daenerys Targaryen, you have been found guilty of attempting to commit treason against the Queen of the North. Jon Snow, you have been found guilty of conspiring against the Queen of the North for failing to inform anyone of this plot.” She paused and looked into Jon’s eyes. “For these crimes, I banish you both from Winterfell, from the North, the Vale and the Riverlands. Leave within an hour and never set foot in my lands again or you will be executed.” Glover and Royce were already leaning forward, ready to argue she was being too lenient, but Sansa held out a hand once again. “This is my sentence.”

“You need us!” Dany screamed. “The prophecy said that only the Prince or Princess who was promised can save you from the Long Night. That is either Jon or me! We should be your rulers!”

“Prophecies have a way of being twisted to have the most convenient interpretation for those who espouse them,” Glover sneered.

Sansa stood and began to leave the room. She walked past Jon and paused to say softly to him.

“I guess I couldn’t trust you after all. But I spared you and the woman you seem to love beyond everything and everyone else. I’m giving you the wish you had back at Castle Black. I’m letting you go to some place warm. Do not come back here, Jon Snow.”

Sansa moved away from him and left the Great Hall. Jon could sense the ripple of displeasure within the room, the others clearly thinking Sansa had been far too generous in her sentence. Within an hour, they had been packed up and escorted far from Winterfell where they were left with just two packs of their belongings and a small purse that Sam had brought down to him before he had left.

“The Queen asked me to give this to you,” Sam said stiffly. “It’s enough to book passage for you both to the Free Cities from White Harbor.” He looked into Jon’s eyes. “I hope Daenerys is worth this.” Sam nodded his head and without another word, went back into the keep without a word of goodbye.

As they trudged towards White Harbor, Daenerys continued to rant and rave about the injustices she had received. Sansa may have thought she was being kind in sparing their lives so they could be together, but Jon could think of no worse punishment of being stuck with Dany as she went on yet another diatribe about how she should be queen. Sam’s words came back to Jon and he could only think of one reply.

No, it had not been worth it.

The trip by foot to White Harbor took weeks and by that point Jon had grown thoroughly sick and tired of Dany. She remained fixated on getting her crown. Jon had learned to simply tune her out, but she didn’t seem to notice.

“Once we get to Meeren, I’ll bring back more men and both Cersei and Sansa will pay!” Dany muttered as Jon checked over their things. She glanced down at the ticket he handed her and a small amount of coins. “What’s this?”

“Your passage to the Free Cities,” Jon replied. “And some money to help you along the way.”

“You’re not coming with me?” Dany asked in surprise.

“No, I’m going back to help in the fight with the Others.”

“Alone? Are you insane? Wait until we’ve raised an army.”

Jon sighed. “WE are not raising an army. I’m going to go and defend my home. Our association ends here.”

“You are my blood, Jon! A Targaryen! A dragon!” She reached out to grab his arm, her nails fruitlessly sinking into the thick layers on his sleeve. “Come with me. Be my mate and my king.”

Jon gently shook her off. “No. I’m a Stark. A wolf. And for the first time in ages, I’m going to start acting like one.”

*/*/*/*

He watched as the ship that carried an angry Daenerys sailed away and for the first time in a long while he felt he could breathe again. Jon made his way back into the North and headed towards the one place he thought he may be welcomed.

“Jon Snow, I wondered when you’d show your pretty face,” Tormund Giantsbane bellowed out. The wildling pulled Jon into a fierce hug.

“Tormund, I’ve been a fool, but I still want to fight.”

“Aye, I know what has happened, Jon Snow. I know your death has been ordered if you set foot in thiese lands, but we need men. We need you here for this fight and here you can stay.”

In the moons that came, the fighting was fierce. With nothing left to lose and only the hope of regaining some honor, Jon became the fiercest of fighters taking the greatest risks. His exploits and identity soon became known but as the North fought for its life, people became less concerned with his presence.

But they were steadily losing the war and nothing they had would stem the inevitable tide. Jon knew there was only one chance and that was to cut the head off the snake itself and kill the Night King.

An opportunity came one night on the battlefield and Jon faced off with the leader of the Others. But it was all for naught as he fell onto his back, winded and injured. He watched as the Night King loomed over him and waited for death. At this point it would be welcomed and then he heard a cry,

“Stick ‘em with the pointy end!”

A small dark flash stepped between them and a dark sliver of dragon glass was driven into the Night King’s chest. The figured pushed the demon backwards but it reached out to grab the figure’s throat. Jon struggled up to his knees and watched the two locked in what could be a lovers’ embrace, but Jon knew was one of death.

“Arya!” Jon screamed out as the two fell over the side of a cliff.

With the Night King dead, his armies simply stopped and turned to dust, ashes and snow. Jon, Tormund and a few others scrambled down from the cliff to found Arya and the Night King still locked in their tight embrace, both dead.

As everyone celebrated and cheered, Jon led a somber party back to Winterfell as he and escorted Arya’s body back home. The celebratory cheers died down as the covered body of the Princess of Winterfell was unloaded and presented to her sister and brother.

Sansa dropped to her knees and sobbed as she reached out a hand to touch some of the dark brown hair that had come uncovered. Jon knelt beside Sansa and held her close as they wept for their lost sister.

*/*/*/*/*

Later, Jon went to visit Bran in the Godswoods.

“You knew. You knew neither Daenerys nor I was this so-called Prince that Was Promised. You knew it was Arya all this time, didn’t you?” Jon accused Bran.

“It was her destiny,” Bran replied simply. “She wasn’t meant to rule. She wasn’t meant to be a lady or have children or lived to be old. She was meant to save the world.”

“And Sansa never knew?”

Bran shook his head. “I only spoke to Arya about it. If Sansa knew, she would have tried to find some way to make sure Arya didn’t do it because it would mean her death. But she was the only one who could kill the Night King. She was the Princess Who Was Promised.”

*/*/*/*

Jon visited Sansa in her solar one evening. The Northerners still look at him with some suspicion, but his exploits against the Others and bringing Arya’s body back to Winterfell to be laid to rest has done much to help restore his name and reputation. It will never be the same. He will still be looked at with some suspicion, but no one is calling for his blood.

Jon has not seen Sansa much since he came back. Her duties have kept her very busy as has her mourning. It is a rare opportunity when he does catch her in her solar alone and in a quiet moment. She allows him to enter, but does nothing more as she continues to stare into the fire she sits by. Jon simply enjoys looking at her for a few minutes. The winter has been harsh on all of them and he can see Sansa is paler and thinner, but she is still lovely and with all that has been lost, even more precious to him.

Jon settles himself down beside her at her feet and leans against her leg, much like Ghost will do sometimes. He takes one of her hands in his and presses his lips to her palm. Sansa allows the kiss to linger a heartbeat or two before she pulls away only to use her hand to stroke his hair.

“I’m still not sure I can completely trust you,” she says softly.

“I understand.” Jon pauses. “But maybe some day?”

“Maybe some day,” Sansa replies.

As he sits here, next to her, in the warmth of her solar with the threat against their world gone, Jon is content with that promise for now. 

 

**The End**

**Epilogue:**

The storm lashed against the boat like it was nothing more than a toy in the hands of a cruel and capricious child. A strike of lightening and a low crack split the ship in two and the screams of the crew and passengers were drowned in the fury of the storm.

Daenerys thought it was an irony that her name would be Stormborn and it would be a storm that kills her. Her last moments were spent thinking how this was not how her story was supposed to end, but it was how it did.

**Author's Note:**

> So yes, neither Jon nor Dany were all that special, it was Arya all the time!


End file.
